


Show Me

by buttercup23



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alistair being adorkable and innocent, F/M, Fluff, Mutual Masturbation, Pillow Talk, Shameless Smut, nameless warden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 21:49:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2827250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttercup23/pseuds/buttercup23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Alistair and his Warden lover have the opportunity for a little rest and relaxation in a warm, private room, Alistair is surprised and a little scandalized by his lover's request.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Show Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Letticiae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Letticiae/gifts).



> This was written for a secret santa gift exchange for the lovely and talented Letticiae!

A room in an inn in the Diamond Quarter of the underground city of Orzammar, it occurred to Alistair, was superior in many ways to a tent in the middle of the wilderness. The thought was a nicely solid one for his mind to grasp onto, so he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to enumerate all the ways his current predicament was better than his regular circumstances.

 _Warmth_ , he thought, stifling a groan by biting his lip. Furrowing his brow, he tried to focus on that.

Warmth meant that he and his Warden lover did not need to retire for the evening fully dressed and still shivering. No, there was no sign of a chill in the air—if anything the room was downright steamy. In fact, when he opened his eyes into slits he saw a lazy drop of sweat meandering between the Warden’s breasts. He found himself transfixed at first by the trail it left, and then mesmerized by the rhythmic undulation her rounded, plump breasts made as the Warden writhed astride him.

It was too much, and if he kept watching it would be over far too soon. He wrenched his eyes closed and tried to practice his Templar breathing techniques as the Warden’s moans and groans of delight grew steadily louder.

 _Privacy_ , he thought, his fingers gripping the Warden’s hips as she buried him deep inside herself. The thick, stone walls of Orzammar meant they didn’t need to worry about waking their slumbering companions. The two of them were free to be as loud as they pleased—a good thing, considering that the volume of the Warden’s cries had grown almost painful.

Her hips stuttered and then her eyes flew open and she pressed her hands against his chest. “I’m...I’m….”

 _Finally,_  he thought, gripping her hips with his hands, though in truth he was proud of how long he'd been able to last. As her face contorted and she stilled, he thrust upward once and then twice before riding over the edge with her, holding her hips firmly in place as her walls clenched around him. She was keening loudly in his ear and in any other context it would have been an obnoxious behavior to tolerate, but in this particular case, her screams only served to drag out the moment for him, and as he emptied himself inside her his mind went totally and blissfully blank.

A few seconds later found them both panting in slaked silence. The Warden slumped against his chest, content to lie there as he went soft inside her.

“So...this beats a night at camp, eh?”

She chuckled into his chest before lifting up her head and squinting at him. “As far as ideas go, this is one of your better ones.” She slid off of him and shifted so that she lay beside him with her head lying on his chest.

He rested his chin on the top of her head. “I’ll take that,” he said with a drowsy smile.

The idea had seemed rather obvious at the time. The two of them had only been sleeping with each other for a few weeks, and other than their first blissful time together, most of their couplings had been awkward, partially-dressed, frenetic affairs. It was too cold to sleep in simple bedclothes, and given the darkspawn activity they’d run into lately, it wasn’t wise to sleep without armor on and weapons nearby, either. Such preparations did not encourage romance. Not to mention the whole watch schedule—the Warden wouldn’t want it to be said that she was giving him (or herself, for that matter) preferential treatment, so they stuck to the same schedule as before, and that meant they only had every third night or so to spend together uninterrupted.

Unfortunately such infrequent encounters—fevered and passionate as they were—did little to satisfy his Joining-enhanced sex drive. So when the opportunity came to get rooms in the very solid, very warm underground tavern, it truly took no mental effort at all to come up with and put forth the idea that the two of them should share a room and retire early to take full advantage of it.

And take advantage of it they had. Twice already this evening, in fact.

“So,” she said, breath hot against his skin. “How many more times do you think you can do that?” She lifted her head and looked at him with a mischievous smirk.

In spite of everything, he found himself blushing. Curse his fair skin. “I’m not really sure.” _That’s a lie._ “I’ve...um...not really had a chance to test...it.” _Another lie._ “You know, you and I haven’t exactly had the opportunity and before you...there wasn’t anyone.” _That part is true, at least._

She didn’t seem to notice his discomfort. “Really?” She cocked her head to the side and looked at him curiously. “Not even by yourself?”

His stupid body was betraying him, but he doggedly stuck to his course. “By my—? What do you mean? No...no, I don’t do that.” His ears were on fire as he shook his head. The pillows were going to burst into flames any second, he was sure of it.

She brought up her hands and folded them under her chin, resting against his chest. Her eyes narrowed, though he suspected a twinkle of amusement in them.“How do you know you don’t do it if you don’t know what I mean?”

 _Oops_. He cringed, and then held his breath for a few seconds as he studied her face. She looked...amused. And completely relaxed. He let out the breath. “Don’t suppose there’s any point in continuing to deny it, is there?”

Her grin widened and she chuckled. “No, not really.”

“ _Maker preserve me_ ,” he swore, closing his eyes and giving his head a small shake before opening them. “Alright, this one time—I think it was only a few weeks after my Joining—but I was traveling with Duncan and we stayed at this inn and I got my own room and well…” He cleared his throat. “I made it to eight before my wrist started getting sore.”

 _I can’t believe I just told her that._ There was a part of him that was dying of shame on the inside, but there was another, more immediate part of him that enjoyed confessing.

The grin that blossomed on her face was part amused, part delighted. “Eight, huh? Well, now we know the standard to beat.”

He grinned back at her, thankful again for the frank approach she took to sex. He had at first been thrown off by her nonchalant attitude, but now that they were closer he appreciated her candor. It was a blessing, really, for someone as inexperienced as he had been. Whether she was aware of it or not, her matter-of-fact approach had helped make the entire thing feel more...natural. Like whatever they did together couldn’t be wrong. There wasn’t anything dirty or shameful about their time together. It was about love and affection, above all else—

“So, do you ever think about me when you do it?”

His eyes went wide. _Maker’s breath._ He wondered if a time would come when his mind didn’t reel at a question like that. It stuttered to a stop. “You....you actually want to talk about this?” he said, mostly to buy himself time to think.

She moved off of him and stretched out beside him on her side, propping her head up by her elbow so she could more easily look at him. “Sure, why not?” she said, giving a little shrug. “Everybody does it.”

“Everybody?” he said, raising an incredulous eyebrow. “Like say...Sten? Are you telling me that giant statue spends time—”

“Polishing his own sword?” she offered, far too helpfully.

“Great, there’s an image I’ll never get out of my head.”

She laughed. “Well, alright. Not everyone. I’m sure there are people who don’t. I just mean...it’s way more common than you think.”

“And just how do you know this, exactly? Have you been conducting research behind my back? Asking strangers about their sex lives?” He turned on his side and slipped his arm underneath the pillow before narrowing his eyes in mock accusation. “That sounds just like you.”

She laughed but waved her hand. “I just know. And you’re still avoiding the question.”

“There was a question?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes. Do you or do you not think about _yours truly_ when you…” Her eyes trailed down his body and back up. ‘... _pleasure_ yourself.”

And the blush was back, but his face wasn’t the only place where blood was starting to rush. _Round 3, coming up soon_. “Ahhh, right. That whole question.” He let out a loud breath and closed his eyes. “I swear, you’ll be the death of me.” He opened his eyes and gave his lover a resigned but amused smirk. “What do you think? Of course I thought about you. I can barely stand to think about anything else under normal circumstances.”

She averted her eyes and he couldn’t help but admire the way her thick lashes fluttered against her cheek. Meeting his gaze again, her smile was full of warmth and affection. “Well, that’s good. I wouldn’t want to be the only one.”

His eyes went wide. Surely he’d misunderstood. “The only...wait a minute. Are you trying to tell me that you…”

His shock elicited a giggle, and then the Warden pressed a hand against his chest and leaned close. “Of _course_ I thought about you when I touched myself. Speaking of wrists giving out…” She lifted her eyebrows and shot him a knowing look, shameless as always. Or perhaps nearly so—a faint hint of a blush graced her cheeks.

Shaking his head emphatically, he said in an official sounding tone, “No. I’m sorry. That’s impossible. If you were doing that and thinking about me I would have known.”

She leaned back with a snort of disbelief. “Oh really? I know how to be discreet. Just how would you know?”

“What?” he asked loudly, cupping a hand to his ear. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t quite hear that over the ringing in my ears from your screaming just a few moments ago…”

She gave him a playful shove. “That’s different! I’m here...no one can hear us. Not like at camp, where everyone’s breathing down our necks all the time.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I still don’t believe it,” he insisted, before shooting her his cheekiest grin. “I’m sure the Maker would have sent me some kind of sign if such a glorious event had come to pass.”

She threw back her head and laughed, and the sound filled his chest with warmth. It occurred to him that he enjoyed lying here chatting with her almost as much as their more vigorous private activities. _At least I can make her laugh without the entire camp thinking she’s laughing_ at _me_. Just another reason to be thankful for those thick stone walls.

“So,” she said, interrupting his ruminations. Her lips curved into a seductive grin. “Why don’t you show me?”

He could do nothing but blink at her in shock for a few minutes. “Show you? You want me to...do that...in front of you?” She looked away then, and with a pang Alistair realized he’d made her feel ashamed for asking. That was the absolute last thing he wanted. He reached for her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I mean, it’s just…the idea of you doing that? Totally hot. I get it. But me?” He winced. “You wouldn’t find that...I don’t know.” _Pathetic?_ “Perverted?” he said aloud, instead.

She seemed to relax at his words and his touch, and her grin grew wide again. “Oh, it’s totally perverted. That’s what makes it so fun.”

“Ah ha.” He gave a nervous laugh. It was...more than a little shocking that she would find the sight of him doing that at all appealing. He supposed he held more shame about the act than even he’d realized. There was a part of him that still couldn’t quite believe doing it didn’t make him desperate and deranged. “You know, the sisters at the monastery...they couldn’t come right out and say it was a sin, but they made enough disapproving comments for me to know they considered it one.” He paused a beat, and then frowned. “‘Course, maybe that was just because they had to wash our socks.”

Her eyebrows drew together for a moment in confusion, before shooting upward with comprehension. She laughed. “That might have had something to do with it.” After a moment she shrugged her shoulder. “But I wouldn’t ask if I weren’t willing to do the same.”

The sudden vision of her with her hands on her own body, bringing herself to release...it was more welcome than he could have guessed. He was helpless against it. “Alright.”

With a noise of delight she turned to lie on her back, eyes cast upward at the ceiling. He took a deep breath and mimicked her pose. They lay there a moment in silence, and though Alistair would have thought he was far beyond being nervous at being naked, at that moment he was aware of every inch of his exposed skin.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “Do you...want me to start?”

“Yes, please.”

His quick answer drew another giggle out of her, and then she smoothed her expression and closed her eyes. Taking deep breaths, she brought her hands up to cup her breasts. Slowly, gently, she started massaging them, kneading the soft flesh with her hands.

Alistair was transfixed. He lay there watching her, mouth hanging open. After a moment she opened up one eye and peeked over at him. “Are you going to join me or what?”

Whereas moments before, it had seemed an act far too intimate and private to share with anyone, now he reached for his hardening cock without a second thought. His mouth went dry as his hand closed over the sensitive flesh, drawing a quiet groan from his throat.

She’d opened both eyes now, and stared at his hand with an intensity that made him go fully hard. Biting her lip as she watched him, she let her left hand trail down her stomach to slide between her legs.

Grasping his cock with a firm grip, he stroked himself as he watched her hand move in slow, deliberate circles. The two of them continued like this for a few moments; the silence was disturbed only by the sound of their breathing and the whisper of their hands against their own flesh.

He looked up and their eyes met—there was no trace of amusement or embarrassment in the bright pink blush of her skin. The only thing he saw in his lover’s gaze was desire, and he was certain his expression matched hers.

She licked her lips and then broke her stare to close her eyes. Stretching her arm a little further, she slipped her middle finger inside herself, before pulling it out and massaging the apex of her folds at a faster pace.

She wasn’t looking at him anymore, but even if she had been he doubted he would have been able to stop himself from increasing his pace to match hers. His skin felt deliciously sensitive as he stared at her ministrations, willing himself to commit her every gesture to memory so he could mimic them at his next opportunity.

Her breathing became ragged and loud, and he found himself taking deeper breaths as well. She gave a low groan and he couldn’t help but answer it with one of his own. Her fingers were moving quickly now, and her brow furrowed. He started to stroke faster too, but then he felt something building deep in his abdomen.

It took a monumental amount of will, but he managed to let go of himself and rest his hand on the bed.  It was all so much more erotic than he could have ever guessed. “I, uh, better stop.”

She opened her eyes and looked at him, still stroking herself. Her face folded into a frown. “Why?”

Having her address him while she was still playing with herself made his cock positively twitch with need. He clenched his fists into the bed sheets. “Because it’ll be over quickly,” he confessed, sounding out of breath.

Her chest was heaving up and down. “Isn’t that the point?” she asked, voice straining.

That...was a fair point. He reached for his cock again. “Right,” he said, watching her. He supposed there was no point in being self-conscious—she was far more distracted by her own hands anyway, to pay that much attention to his.

Her head tilted back with another groan, and then her hips started writhing. “ _Maker_ ,” she said in a huff of breath. “This feels so fucking good.”

His heart was racing in his chest and his leg muscles started to tense up as he resumed stroking his cock. He watched, enthralled, as the Warden grasped one beautiful breast in her right hand and squeezed, still massaging her core with the quick fingers of her left hand.

His balls were starting to feel...tight. “Maker,” he said in a ragged voice, gripping his rock hard length with a tight fist. “You are so fucking hot.”

She opened her eyes to stare at him and her breathing turned raspy. The sight of him must have pleased her because she moaned aloud. “Oh, oh, oh,” she said, each syllable twice as loud as the one before.

He knew she would come soon, and the knowledge only brought him that much closer to his own climax. The slap of flesh against flesh was louder now, but it was almost drowned out by the noises of their heavy breathing and grunting. If he stopped to think about it he would undoubtedly be deeply embarrassed by the frantic display of self-abuse he was now participating in, but all such thoughts were buried under a more all-consuming need to reach that edge with her.

He felt that gathering tension again when she suddenly went silent, mouth hanging open wide. She was almost there, he knew, so he reached for the pinnacle along with her. She looked at him, and he came undone.

They came within seconds of each other. She huddled into herself, keening loudly while pressing her thighs together, while his whole body went taut and then his seed shot out of him in thick white ropes as he spurted once, then twice, then one final time before every bone and muscle in his body turned to jelly.

The two of them lay there panting for a long moment. Finally, she looked up at him. He would swear her face was glowing. “That was…”

“Glorious?” he helpfully supplied, before reaching across the bed for a shirt. He used it to wipe up the mess he’d made over his stomach and the bedsheets. _Maker, there's a lot of it_.

“Glorious is the perfect word,” she said, stretching out her limbs.

He tossed the shirt aside and lay back down on his side next to her, draping an arm over her torso. Her skin was warm to the touch and he was sweating, but he didn’t care—touching her felt imperative. With a heady rush of affection he pulled her closer to him. “I love you, you know that?”

She turned her head to look at him, lips twitching into a smile. “I love you, too,” she said, before closing her eyes and relaxing against him. After a beat, she added, “Pervert.”

He snorted. “Takes one to know one.”

They chuckled together before lapsing into comfortable silence. He felt as content as he ever had—in truth, he felt near giddy with happiness. Like the world had just opened up to a wealth of possibilities. Like he should never again be afraid to ask for what he wanted.

After a few more moments, he spoke. “So,” he said, clearing his throat. “Do you still have those Chantry robes you borrowed from Leliana?”

 


End file.
